


Carry On My Wayward Child

by mischief_rcs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief_rcs/pseuds/mischief_rcs
Summary: Millie Sandra Winchester, 10 years younger than Dean, 6 younger than Sam. Millie was born to John Winchester and a one night stand, taken from her mother due to abuse and neglect. John trained her hard to be his next "good little soldier" no matter how much her brothers protested, wanting her raised "normal", but in their world: normal is hunting. The family business, saving people, hunting things that go bump in the night.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/OC





	1. Pilot: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and certain events of Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, I own Millie Sandra Winchester. 
> 
> This will be updated if there's a new character.
> 
> I will not be fitting one episode into one chapter, the plan is to make each into roughly multiple chapters each. Obviously, I will not write every single episode and you can request which episodes get done even if the timeline doesn't fit. (Example you want Season 2 Episode 14 but I've already written into Season 3 Episode 12, that's ok, I'll happily write the episode so long as it doesn't become an every episode thing and make it fit in the appropriate chapter. Just comment or message why you think that particular episode would further the dynamic and storyline including Millie.)

"Millie, hey, wake up. We're almost at Stanford." Millie heard her eldest brother, Dean, call from the driver's side of the '97 Impala. 

"Does Sammy know we're coming?"

"I don't think so, he won't answer my calls."

Millie sighed and stared out the window. Dad had gone on a hunting trip, it's been too long without a call or return. "Any idea what dad was hunting?"

"Not in the slightest."

Typical Dean, shoot first, questions later. Millie watched as the stars and street lights lit up the otherwise black sky, still another ten minutes from the famed law school. 

"You're not doing this hunt," Dean spoke. 

"Why not? I'm just as well trained as you!"

"You're sixteen! It's my job to keep you safe, and if dad is taking so long, then it's unsafe for you." 

Millie huffed and leaned back into her seat, before Sam left, she had both of them to worry about her, always so protective and even getting hurt for her. Once Sam left, Dean doubled up his own measures. 

"We're here. Now let's find his dorm."

"Hey! Miss!" Millie had already rolled the window down, "Where can I find Sam Winchester's dorm? We're here to surprise him." She smiled at the college girl, her charm as ever influencing Dean's.

Thankfully the college girl had no questions and pointed them to the right direction. Another five minutes deep into campus. 

Dean and Millie quietly picked the lock of the door, slowly creeping in. Dean walks past the door at the far end of the hall. Then what happened next was a flash to the youngest Winchester. Sam lunged forward and grabbed Dean at the shoulder. He knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at him, who ducks. The two pushed back into another room. Sam kicks at Dean's head. Dean knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor, one hand at Sam's neck and the other holding his wrist.

"Whoa, easy, tiger." Dean chuckled, "Mills, it's ok now, I think Sammy will calm down."

"Dean?" Sam looked around the room, "Millie? You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." Millie laughed, happy to see her older brother for the first time since she was thirteen." Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanks, slamming his heel into his back and sending him to the floor.

"Or not." His brother and sister synchronized. 

"Get off of me." Sam rolls his eyes and let's Dean up. 

"What the hell are you doing here? Both of you?" Sam interrogated. 

"Okay. Alright. We gotta talk." Dean said, straightening himself. 

"Uh, the phone?"

"You never answered, not even after leaving a few voicemails."

"Sam?" A woman's voice called out. 

The trio turn their head in unison. 

"Hey. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait, who are they, babe?"

"Dean and Millie Winchester, older brother and younger sister."

"I've heard much about you both." Jessica signed 'hello' to Millie, making her smile, Sam talked about her. Before Millie could even get a word out, Dean spoke. 

"Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Dean was obviously staring at Jessica's breasts. This earned a stomp on the foot from Millie. 

"Just let me put something on."

Jessica turns to go, Millie puts her hand over Dean's mouth and harshly whispers. "Learn some respect, that's Sammy's girl." 

"She's not even his soulmate, no tattoo." Dean retorted, everyone in the world mysteriously got a small gold tattoo on their ring fingers once they met their soulmate, even if it was a glance.

"She's not yours either smartass!" Millie snarked, smacking Dean upside the head. "Anyway, we need to borrow Sam, we need to talk about some private family business." Millie smiled. 

"No." Sam goes over to Jessica and puts an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." The look in his face made them realize that soulmate or not, Sam loved Jessica. 

Dean moves his sister's hand, "Okay. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days. Almost a week." Millie piped up. 

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

Dean and Millie waited outside as Sam changed out of pyjamas. Soon enough the door creaked open as he slipped outside. 

"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you. No offense, Mills."

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with us or not?"

"I'm not." Sam set his foot down. 

"Why not?" Millie questioned, hoping that maybe if she spoke up he'd join them. 

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean chuckled. 

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

"Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark. He was supposed to do what we learned to do for Millie!" 

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after our mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." Millie whispered. Silence filled the air as Dean's protectiveness caused him to create space between her and Sam. "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?"

The trio walked around, getting closer to the Impala. 

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean barked, pushing Millie behind him.

"No. Not normal. Safe." Sam was monotone, it hurt to see that Dean didn't trust him around his own sister. 

"And that's why you ran away."

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Millie replied, peeking her head out from behind Dean. His over protectiveness didn't make sense, but she knew better than to fight it. 

Once again, silence filled the air around them. 

"We can't do this alone."

"Yes you can."

"Sam, I asked him to come get you, I felt like we needed your help." Millie was now standing at Dean's side. 

Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up. "What was he hunting?"

Dean walks to the trunk, opens it up, then the spare-tire compartment. He props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

"All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him? Especially you, Millie."

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans." Dean replied. "Millie threatened to run away if she didn't come with me." 

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself? Wait, seriously?"

"I'm twenty-six, dude."

"What can I say, I love my brothers more."

Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy. They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance" and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned "Andrew Carey MISSING". Sam reads it and glances up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"He wasn't the only one, Sammy, here's another one in April. Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." The youngest Winchester laid out all of the articles as she rattled off the dates.

"All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." Dean nearly put the papers back into the folder. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough."

"Then I got this voicemail yesterday." Dean holds up his tape recorder. He presses play. The recording is staticy and the signal was clearly breaking up.

"Dean, Millie, something big is starting to happen. I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, guys. We're all in danger."

"You know there's EVP on that?" Was all Sam had to say apparently. 

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it? All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

This time a woman's voice whispered, "I can never go home." Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, we never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam relented, he noticed the smile on his sister's face. 

"But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing on Monday?"

"I have this thing, I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it." Millie smacked Dean up the head. 

"I'm proud of you," she smiled.

Sam chuckled. "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate. So, do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

Sam went back inside to pack a duffel bag. He pulls out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside. Dean and Millie were waiting in the Impala when Jessica went into the room.

"Wait, you're taking off? Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama."

Sam walks over to the dresser and turns on the lamp atop it.

"Your sister said he was on some kind of hunting trip."

Jessica sits on the bed as Sam rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple shirts, which go in the duffel.

"Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back."

"What about the interview?" Jessica placed a hand on top of Sam's. 

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days

"Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

He laughs a little, "I'm fine."

"It's just you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal."

"Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise." He kisses her on the cheek and leaves.

"At least tell me where you're going." 

"Jericho."

The Impala is parked in front of a pump. 'Ramblin' Man' by the Allman Brothers plays, Millie softly sings along from the back seat. Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food.

"Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can."

Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes.

"Hey!" Dean calls out, Sam and Millie both look up at him. "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks." Sam was polite, but curt. 

"Not hungry, Dean." Millie smiled, she loved all the same foods as both her brothers, but during a hunt she could never bring herself to eat much. For fear that feeling full would only slow her down. 

"Mills, we have another hour or two before we even get there." Dean sighed, knowing her habits. 

"So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam piped up, trying to ease the tension. "You and Dad are still running credit card scams?"

"That I was born a ramblin' man."

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career. Millie, at least eat the fruit cup." Dean tossed the fruit mix through the back seat window, where she caught it with ease. 

Dean puts the nozzle back on the pump and walks to the driver's side as she begins to eat. 

"That's new," Sam murmured to himself, she always had an appetite that could rival Dean's.

"Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards." Dean laughed to himself. 

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian."

Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.

"And his daughter, Daisy. Scored three cards out of the deal. Dad has one too."

"That sounds about right. I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"I've been telling him that, forever!" Millie chucked the now empty fruit cup at Dean's head. 

There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled. He laughed at his sister's statement. 

"Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?"

"It's the greatest hits of mullet rock. Well, house rules, Sammy."

Dean pops the tape in the player.

Millie finishes his sentence before the words could even leave his mouth, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." Sam protested as AC/DC's Back in Black began to play.

"It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." And with that, they leave the gas station ready to begin the hunt. 

JERICHO 7

Millie fell asleep about an hour into the drive, once Sam was sure she was asleep he turned to look at Dean. 

"What happened to her? Why isn't she eating as much?"

"Honestly, Sam, I wish I knew, she says it makes her faster, more alert on hunts, but I'm not quite sure myself." Dean sighed. 

"Did it happen right after I left?" 

"Not immediately, no, she was on a hunt with us, a werewolf, almost got caught, we had just eaten before so she made this horrible correlation. But I don't think it was just that." 

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And what was that, back on campus? You tried to hide her from me, her own brother?"

"I was worried for her! She cried for days, always asking when you'd come home. If you said you wouldn't join us, I wanted to shield her. She's my sister too and I will protect her, even from you." Dean replied harshly, squeezing the steering wheel. 

"Dean, I may feel angry at dad, and you're confusing, but one thing I know is that I love Millie, she's my baby sister. I didn't want to hurt her but I also didn't think dad would let me call for her."

"Well, you didn't know, but she has her own phone now, for safety. I'll have her give you her number when she wakes up. For now, call the hospitals and morgue, see if anyone describes dad."

Sam leaned back and began his search. After 5 calls he closed his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospitals or morgue. So that's something, I guess."

Dean glances over at Sam, then the rear view mirror to see Millie, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers.

"Check it out." Sam leans forward for a closer look. Dean pulls over. They take a long look before he turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces: visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares. 

"Mills, wake up." Dean was turned in his seat, gently shaking his little sister.

"Hmph," she groaned, opening her eyes. 

"Sam and I are going as marshals, do not get out of the car, don't talk to anyone." All Millie gave was a thumbs up as she stretched. 

Dean looked back to Sam, "Let's go."

On the bridge, the deputy leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river. "You guys find anything?"

"No! Nothing!"

The deputy turned back to the car in the middle of the bridge. It's familiar to him, another deputy is at the driver's side looking around inside the car.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."

Sam and Dean walk into the crime scene like they belong there.

"So, this kid Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?" The first deputy asked the other.

"Yeah."

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean interrupted.

The deputies look up when Dean starts talking and straightens up to talk to him. "And who are you?"

Sam and Dean flash their badges. "Federal marshals." 

"I'm Deputy Jaffe, that's Hein by the truck. You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"

Dean laughs, "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that." Jaffe responded. 

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked, taking notes on a small pocketbook. 

Jaffe nods, "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean circles the car, looking around. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So what's the theory?"

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys."

Sam stomps on Dean's foot. "Thank you for your time."

They begin to walk back to the Impala, Jaffe watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Millie honked the Impala horn, Dean turned. It's a Sheriff with the badge name Pierce and two FBI Agents.

"Can I help you boys?" Pierce asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, sir, we were just leaving."

Sam and Dean hurry to the Impala, 

"If you'd quit your bitching, you wouldn't have nearly been caught." Millie snarked.

"Haha," Dean replied dryly, turning the key in the ignition.


	2. Pilot: Part 2

The marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads:

EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING  
SUNDAY 8 PM  
BE SAFE OUT THERE

A young woman is tacking up posters with Troy's face and the caption "MISSING TROY SQUIRE". Sam, Dean and Millie approach her.

"I'll bet you that's her."

"Really what gave it away?"

"You watch your mouth, young lady." Millie only stuck her tongue out as a rebuttal. Sam held back a laugh, always a smart mouth. 

"You must be Amy." Dean smiled at the young woman.

"Yeah." 

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles, and she's his cousin. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and Millie.".

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away. The siblings walk with her.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Millie tried to sound convincing.

Another young woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked, tentatively. Another poster flaps in the breeze. 

The five of them are sitting in a booth, Sam, Dean and Millie on one bench, Amy and the other young woman, Rachel, on the opposite bench.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?"

Amy shakes her head. "No. Nothing I can remember."

Millie smiles at Amy, "I like your necklace. Do you know where I could get one?"

Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." She giggled.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean snarked, then grunted as Millie's heel stabbed into his toes. He takes his arm off the back of the seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything," Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just, I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel spoke quietly.

Sam and Dean chorus, "What do they talk about?" Millie giggled at them, even if it was only this hunt, she had a family back.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Rachel continued, the siblings all watched her, attentively nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

"Thank you, ladies." Dean slid a twenty onto the table to pay for the girls' lunch, before he and his younger siblings made their way to the local library.

A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks GO; the screen tells him there are "(0) Results". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" to "Centennial Highway" with the same response. Sam and Millie are sitting next to him, watching.

"Let me try." Sam attempts to take over, earning a smack in the hand from Dean.

"I got it."

"If you bitches start arguing, I'll make them ring." Millie held her hands threateningly over her ears, her brothers flinched at the idea of the loud shriek her hearing aid would produce, especially in a library.

Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way, next to Millie and takes over.

"Dude!" Dean leaned over to his sister, making sure she could read his lips and whispered, "selfish prick, that one is."

"Oh, hush, Dean, he only wants to help, we did drag him along." Millie smiled, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean turned his attention back to Sam, "You're such a control freak."

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam ignored Dean's insult

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe it's not murder." He concluded. Sam replaces "Murder" with "Suicide" and finds an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Dean and Millie are now standing behind their brother. He opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night.  
Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. She reported that their complex-[...]  
What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."  
At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager.  
"Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean tilted his head slightly.

"An hour before they found her, she called 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."

"The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean said, pointing at the picture.

Sam , Dean, and Millie walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean stated, using his arms to push away from the rails

"So you think Dad would have been here?"

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?" Millie questioned, following Dean's lead.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while."

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday," Sam protested. Dean turned around.

"Monday. Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Dean, what difference does it make, Sam escaped, he was living his dream."

"Mills, hush. Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam steps closer to Dean, almost threateningly. "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

"Dean! Why must you be so rude to him? He left school and his friends to help us!"

By now the boys were completely ignoring Millie. "And who's that?" Sam remarked, jerking Dean back with one swift pull.

"You're one of us."

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to,"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back. Not to mention, Millie's not ever her kid, but Dad still drug her in. Yes, I love her, yes I'm glad she's my little sister, but this isn't even her fight! It's not even her mom!"

Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. Millie launched herself to her brothers, desperately trying to get in between them.

"Stop, please," she cried out, successfully wedging between Sam and Dean, her head laying against Dean's shoulder, "D, please." She hoped the use of his nickname would calm him.

"Don't talk about mom like that." Dean releases Sam and grabs Millie into a hug, "I'm sorry, Mills," He looks up and lets her go, seeing Constance standing at the edge of the bridge.

"Guys." Sam comes to stand next to them. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. They all run to the railing and look over.

"Where'd she go?"

"I don't know."

Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. The siblings all turned to look.

"Who's driving your car?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam and Mille glance at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and run.

"Dean? Go! Go!" Sam grabbed Millie and pulled her close, running at her pace, but even his speed would be no match for the car. The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, Sam and Millie dive over the railing together, Dean dives soon after. The car comes to a halt.

Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on, his other arm firmly wrapped around his small sister. He pulls themselves up onto the bridge and looks around.

"Dean? Dean!" They called out, eyes scanning the darkness below. A filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water and onto the mud, panting.

"What?"

"Hey! Are you alright?" Millie called before running off to go meet him under the bridge.

Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign to Sam. "I'm freaking super."

Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge. Taking Millie's lead to join under the bridge. 

"Eew! I'm not hugging you!" He could hear Millie exclaim with a squeal.

"Aw, sweetie, you're going to break your brother's heart." Dean feigned pain, and for the first time in three years, Sam realized just how much he missed them. "Good thing you didn't fall into the water, Millie, probably would have been benched until we got you new hearing aids."

"Haha," Millie replied dryly, she hated being benched. They all did. 

Once cleaned up, after chasing Millie and Sam around, laughter filled their chests. Dean looked in the hood of his car and leaned on it.

"Your car alright?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!" He screamed the last part to the sky. 

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job going from here, genius?" Millie sighed, catching her breath. 

Sam settles on the hood next to Dean, who throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands. Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean.

"You smell like a toilet." And once more, laughter bubbled into their chests. When Dean was fully satisfied that his car was ok, he ushered his siblings in, and drove to the town's only motel.

"One room, please." A VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Burt Aframian lands on a handwritten guest ledger. Dean is standing at the motel check-in desk, still filthy, with Sam right behind him and Millie in front of them. The clerk picks up the card and looks at it.

"You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Hector Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

The motel door swings open. Sam is on the other side, having just picked the lock. He hides the picks and stands up. Dean and Mille are just outside, playing lookout, until Sam reaches out of the room to grab their shoulder and yank them inside. Sam closes the door behind them. They look around every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

"Whoa."

Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor. Dean sniffs the burger and recoils.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least."

Sam pinches the salt on the floor and looks up.

"Salt, cats-eye shells, he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." Millie looks at the papers covering one wall.

"What have you got here?" Sam placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Centennial Highway victims." Sam nods. The victims seen on the wall include Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos.

"I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other walls. There's something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance's suicide.

"Dad figured it out. He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." Millie stated. 

Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs."

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam replied, tapping a picture on the wall. The caption says he's thirty; the article dates to 1981, so he must be sixty-four.

"If he's still alive."

Sam and Millie go to look at something else. Dean looks at the picture below the Herald article, of a woman in a white dress.

"All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up."

"Hey, Dean?" Dean stops and turns back.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry to you Millie, I was irrational."

Dean holds up a hand, grinning, "No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughs and nods.

"All right. Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Dumbasses." Millie smirked.

Sam laughed again. Dean disappears into the bathroom. Sam noticed something, his smile disappearing, and crosses over for a closer look. stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a young Dean in a baseball cap, with a younger Sam, and a toddler Millie on his lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

Then he begins to pace, holding his phone, and then sits down on the bed. A voicemail message is playing.

"Hey, it's me, it's about ten-twenty Saturday night."

Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room.

"Hey, wait a minute, is that mine?" He shoots an accusing glance at Millie's shirt she chose to change into, more specifically one of his older Bon Jovi shirts.

"Maybe," she giggled, "what'cha going to do about it."

"I'll show you," and before Millie could even process what was said, Dean zipped to her side and pulled her into a bear hug, tickling her sides. Shrieks of laughter fill the motel room between Dean and Millie, along with a small chuckle from Sam.

"Who are the best big brothers in the world?" Dean questioned, keeping up with the tickling.

"You- you and Sammy!" Millie shrieked between laughter. Dean smiled and released her, making sure she'd fall into her bed. 

"We're sharing tonight, you don't want all Sammy's hair in your face." Dean mused his own hair. Millie nodded, her cheeks aching from smiling and her lungs gasping for air.

"I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?"

"No, thanks." Sam replied.

"You know my rules, D."

"Aframian's buying." Dean tried to coax. 

The younger two shake their heads.

Dean leaves the motel room, he gets the jacket the rest of the way on as he crosses the lot. He looks over and sees a police car, where the motel clerk is talking to Deputy Jaffe and Hein. The clerk points at Dean, who turns away and pulls out his cell phone.

Sam is sitting on the bed, still listening to the message. "So come home soon, okay? I love you." The phone beeps. Sam looks at it and presses a button, then puts it back to his ear.

"What?"

"Dude, five-oh, take off. Grab Mills."

Sam stands up. "What about you?"

"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad."

Dean hangs up the phone as the Deputies approach. He turns and grins at them.

"Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?"

"Partner? What, what partner?"

Jaffe glances over his shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the motel room. Hein heads over there. Sam sees Hein approaching and darts away from the window, holding Millie's hand.


	3. Pilot: Part 3

"Mills, do you trust me?" Sam quickly asked.

"What sort of question is that?"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes, you're my brother for," Millie couldn't even finish her sentence before Sam yanked her to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them. Immediately he began to fiddle with the window until he heard a pop of it opening. 

"On my shoulders, hurry!" Millie quickly climbed onto Sam's shoulders, having to bend down to not hit the ceiling. "Brace yourself, it's not too big of a drop but might still hurt." Once he felt Millie tense up, he gently pushed her through the window.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, come on, Sammy! I'm out of the way." With that, Sam pushed himself out of the window, falling headfirst just as Millie had. 

"You're smaller, faster. I want you to bolt to the car and drive it to the end of the road, I'll meet you there, Dean will have dropped the keys near the car."

"Ok, and Sam, be safe." Millie took off, staying out of the sight of the deputies. Just as Sam stated, Dean dropped the car keys for them. One of the cop cars were gone, possibly taking Dean to the station. Millie climbed in, and soon the engine roared to life, alerting Hein. Getting into gear, Millie took off as fast as she could, once she saw Sam, she pulled over to let him in, scooching to the passenger seat.

Millie looks through the chain-link covering a grimy glass window, Sam knocks on the door the window is in. An old man, Joseph Welch. opens it.

"Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

Sam, Millie, and Joseph are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror.

"Yeah, he was older, but that's him." He hands the photo back to Sam.

"He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right. We're working on a story together."

"Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?"

"About your wife Constance?" Millie piped up.

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?" Sam inquired.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?"

"It's fact-checking. If you don't mind."

"In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?"

"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." Sam and Millie stop walking, Joseph stops too.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?"

"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever knew."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Joseph hesitates, "Definitely."

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time. Come on, Mills." They turn toward the Impala. Joseph walks away. Sam waits a moment, then looks back up at Joseph.

"Mr. Welch, have you ever heard of a woman in white?"

"A what?"

Sam smiles, "A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping women? It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women. You understand. But all share the same story."

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." Millie continued, causing Joseph to stop. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

"You think, you think that has something to do with Constance? You smartass! Boy, you better learn to control her mouth!"

"You do not talk to her like that!" Sam boomed, a hand placed on Millie's shoulder pushing her behind him, as Dean had done to him. "Now, did it have something to do with your late wife?"

"I mean, maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!"  
Joseph's face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. 

"Thank you, Sammy."

"Anytime, honey." Millie smiles at the use of her old nickname.

"Now, let's bust Dean out." He smiled, pulling his phone out to make a fake 911 call. 

Dean climbs down the fire escape, carrying John's journal, the cops had gotten a 911 call, and left him alone, thankfully he had a paperclip. 

Sam is driving the Impala when his phone rings. He pulls it out and answers it. Dean is in a phone booth; apparently his phone was confiscated and he didn't take the time to steal it back.

"Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

"You're welcome. Hey, I'm putting you on speaker."

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop." Millie rambled, something she often did after research.

"Millie, would you shut up for a second, please?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?" Millie asked, leaning to Sam's phone. 

"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm not sure yet."

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Millie asked, reading Sam's mind.

Sam looks up and slams the brake: Constance appeared on the road in front of them. The car goes right through her as Sam brings it to a halt.

"Sam? Millie!"

Inside the car, Sam and Millie breathe hard. "Dean, we have to go." Millie ended the call, staring at Constance through the rear view Constance is sitting in the back seat.

"Take me home."

"No." Sam was stern, staring her down. 

She glares and the doors lock themselves. Sam and Millie struggle to reopen them. The gas pedal pressed down and the car began to drive itself. Sam tries to steer, but Constance is doing that too. The car pulls up in front of Constance's house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

"Don't do this."

Constance flickers, her voice is sad. "I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home." Sam looks back and Constance isn't there. He glances around and back and sees her in the shotgun seat, on Millie's lap, ready to choke her. 

"You get off of her now!" Sam reaches, looking for salt. She turns her attention to Sam and climbs into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. 

"Sam!"

"Find salt!" Constance turned back to Millie to slammed her head into the dash, rendering her unconscious, Sam heard a sickening crack, one he could only hope was her hearing aid. 

"Millie! No!" Sam struggles against the ghost. 

"Hold me. I'm so cold."

"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been! And she's not your type!"

"You will be. Just hold me." Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam leans to Millie and begins to shake her,

"Millie, Millie! Honey, wake up!" Then he yells in pain and yanks his hoodie open. There are five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling Constance. Dean approaches, still firing at her. She glares at him and vanishes, then reappears, and Dean keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car.

"I'm taking you home." He drives forward. Dean stares after the car as Sam smashes through the side of the house. Dean hurries through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

"Sam! Sam! You okay? Millie? Millie! Oh, god what happened?"

"I think I'm ok, Millie had her head slammed to the dash. I think her hearing aid broke."

"It seems like it did, she has a spare pair, won't be as good, but better than none. She's safer in the car, for now. Can you move?"

"Yeah. Help me?" Dean leans through the window to give Sam a hand. Constance picks up a large framed photograph, the woman is Constance and the children are presumably hers.

The boys look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards Sam and Dean, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; Constance looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are the boy and girl from the photograph. They hold hands and speak in chorus.

"You've come home to us, Mommy." Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her; they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children melt into a puddle in the floor. Sam and Dean shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.

"So this is where she drowned her kids."

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." He slaps Sam on the chest where he's been injured and walks away. Sam laughs through the pain.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey. Saved your ass. Now let's check on Mills, do you think she'll be ok?"

"We can only know when she wakes up." Dean crawled into the car, pulling Millie into his lap. He could feel a pulse, she was just knocked out, that held some comfort. Sam hands him a small bottle of whiskey and a first aid kit, all he can do is watch as Dean patches up their little sister. 

"I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you." Sam laughed, when Millie was patched he gently laid her in the back seat, placing his hoodie as a pillow.

"I'll take you home, Sammy." Millie woke up around 30 minutes later, much to the relief of her older brothers, however, she did have a choice of words for the technical company about the strength of her hearing aids. 

"Had me worried, kiddo. Thought I was going to have to kill Sam," Dean chuckled, looking back to her in the rear view mirror.

"Nah, not yet, D." Millie smiled and they laughed, it truly felt like Sam never left.   
They pull up in front of the apartment a few hours later, Dean now frowning. Sam and Millie get out and give each other a tight hug.

"I love you, Mills, I promise I'll text and call more often." He then leans over to look through the window.

"Call me if you find him?" Dean nods as Millie climbs into shotgun. 

"And maybe we can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right."

Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. Dean leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat. "Sam?"

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah." Dean drives off with Millie waving in the window until she couldn't see him anymore. Sam watches them go and sighs.

"Jess? I'm home" Sam closes the door behind him. He notices a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads "Missed you! Love you!", next to a National Geographic. He picks one up and eats it as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. The shower is audibly running. Sam sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and flops onto his back. He feels something wet drip onto his forehead, one drop, then another; he flinches and opens his eyes. He gasps in horror: Jess is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the belly.

"No! No!" Jess bursts into flame; the fire spreads across the ceiling. Dean kicks the front door open, thankful now that Millie asked to turn for one more hug. 

"Sam!" Sam raises one arm to shield his face.

"Jess!" 

Dean comes running into the bedroom. "Sam! Sam!" Dean looks up and sees Jess. He grabs Sam off the bed and bodily shoves him out the door, Sam struggling all the way.

"Jess! Jess! No!" Flames engulf the apartment, Millie quickly rushed to her brothers, hugging them both tight. 

A fire truck is parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Dean looks on, then turns and walks back to his car. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger. Sam looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk. Millie looked at is hand and was grateful that even with the absence of a gold tattoo, the black one didn't show up either.

"We got work to do."


	4. Bloody Mary: Part 1

"Sam, wake up. Sleepyhead." Dean chuckled. Sam wakes up, confused, sits up and looks around. He's sitting shotgun in the Impala, which is parked in front of a large building. Dean turned in his seat to shake Millie awake. 

"I take it I was having a nightmare." Sam murmured.

"Yeah, another one."

"Hey, at least I got some sleep."

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this."

"Are we here?" Millie groggily asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio."

Sam picks up a newspaper with A man's, Steven Shoemaker's obituary circled.

The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]

"So what do you think really happened to this guy?"

"That's what we're gonna find out."

"Well then, let's go."

Sam, Dean and Millie get out of the car and head up to the building, heading into room 144, marked Morgue.

"Hey." Dean walked over to the tech.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. We're the, uh, med students." Millie smiled, trying to ease his nervousness.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, Doctor Figlavitch didn't tell you?"

"We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh well he said, oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?" Sam pressed.

"Sorry, I can't."

"Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." Dean feigned worry.

"Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out," Dean tried. 

"Uh, look, man, no." The tech insisted.

Dean laughs a little, turning with Sam and Millie, "I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear."

Sam hits Dean on the arm, he steps in front of Dean and opens his wallet and pulls out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the Tech's desk. Who greedily grabbed the money.

"Follow me."

The tech gets up and leaves. Dean grabs Sam. "Dude, I earned that money."

"You won it in a poker game." Millie snarked, giggling to herself. Dean lightly smacks her upside the head. "I still earned it."

Sam directed his attention to the tech, "Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." The tech pulls back the sheet over Steven's face.

"More than that. They practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean straightened himself out after dealing with a slightly ticked sister. 

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death."

"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?" Millie asked, glaring at Dean.

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"The eyes; what would cause something like that?" Dean questioned, inspecting the Tech.

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Millie asked. 

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."

"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for our paper."

"I'm not really supposed to show you that." Sam, annoyed, pulls out his wallet.

After looking over the papers and quickly taking pictures the three of them hurried out before the doctor could return. 

"Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing." Sam pondered.

"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?"

"Uh, almost never."

"Exactly." Millie and Dean chorused. 

"All right, let's go talk to the daughters." After another fifteen minute drive, they made it to the Shoemaker house and walked into the funeral. There is a picture of Steven Shoemaker on the desk. The attendees are all men in black suits and women in black dresses, except the Winchesters.

"Feel like we're underdressed." They keep walking through the house towards the back.

"I'm looking for the family members," Dean said to a guest, the man pointed them toward Donna and Lily Shoemaker, who are with their friends.

"You must be Donna, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hi, uh, we're really sorry."

"Thank you."

"I'm Sam, this is Dean. We worked with your dad. And this is Millie, our sister."

"You did? Work with my dad, I mean?"

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke." Dean said awkwardly.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this." One of Donna's friends piped up, shooting daggers to the trio.

"It's okay. I'm okay."

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Millie asked, earning a disgusted look from the friend.

"No."

"That's because it wasn't a stroke." Lily Shoemaker spoke. 

"Lily, don't say that." Donna shushed her

"What?"

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me."

"Lily." Millie stepped closer to her, "Why would you say something like that?"

"Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." 

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna held her sister close. 

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Sam tried to reassure. 

"No, I don't think so."

Sam pushes the door to the crime scene open. There is still some dried blood on the floor.

"The Bloody Mary legend, dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?"

"Not that I know of." Milie hummed, carefully walking around where the blood was.  
Dean walks into the bathroom, Sam stays with Millie and stoops to the floor.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening."

"The place where the legend began?" Millie looked at Sam, her green eyes showing confusion first.

In the bathroom Dean shrugged and opened the medicine cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says B-" Sam quickly halted before he made a potentially fatal mistake, "the person who says you know what gets it. But here,"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean finished, returning to his siblings. "Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

"It's worth checking in to." 

"Guys, someone's coming," Millie alerted her brothers, the benefits of her hearing aids. The Winchesters leave the bathroom, coming face to face with one of the fiends they met earlier.

"What are you doing up here?"

"We had to go to the bathroom."

"Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."

"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant-"  
"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

"All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad." Millie was beginning to get annoyed, ready to expose the world of monsters to this bitch.

"Yeah, a stroke."

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." Sam hurriedly said, placing a hand on his smaller sister's shoulder, trying to subconsciously calm her.

"Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Millie sneered.

"Who are you two, cops?" The friend looked at Sam and Dean, ignoring the younger girl between them. Sam looks over his shoulder at Dean.

"Something like that."

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reaches into his pocket, pulls out a paper and pen, and starts writing down his cell number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call." Sam hands her the paper as he and his siblings walk down the hallway.


End file.
